


Christmas Prompts

by narvaeztrash



Series: Christmas Gifts [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fluff, GTA!verse, M/M, fem!Jack, lil bit of angst i guess, lots of fluff, this is just a bunch of prompts for loads of different people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-09 06:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8878744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narvaeztrash/pseuds/narvaeztrash
Summary: a bunch of cute prompts from my friends that i wrote as christmas gifts!!enjoy <3ships are in the chapter titles





	1. I Promise [Doolray/Mavin]

**Author's Note:**

> this one is for cana/sami aka @canadiantardis !!! ilysm <3
> 
> prompt: one of the lads gets sick/injured, and the others have to look after them.

“Well, that went fuckin’ well, didn’t it?”

“Michael, could you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to _focus_.”

“Could you drive any fuckin’ slower!? Is this a joke?”

“I’m trying to not crash, asshole. Calm the fuck down before I throw you out and make you walk your sorry ass home.”

“You’re lucky we’re in a car, you piece of shit.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Guys, could you _both_ shut the fuck up? It’s getting really bloody annoying!”

The pair turned round to see Gavin glaring up at the two of them, wiping blood off of his face irritably. “All you two have done is bloody squabble like children! You’re giving me a right headache, and considering I’m not the one who’s injured, I dread to imagine what Jeremy’s hearing right now!”

“Gav, I told you, I’m _fine_.”

Gavin simply ignored Jeremy’s weak dismissal, carding a hand through his hair. “You are not _fine_ , Jeremy Dooley, and you need to rest. These two going at each other is probably not helping.” Gavin glanced pointedly at Michael, who flipped him off in response before turning around to glare out of the window.   
“That’s mature.” Ray muttered, smirking slightly in Michael’s direction.

“Don’t you bloody start, Ray.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

The rest of the journey passed in silence, with the exception of Jeremy’s soft groans of pain whenever Ray’s driving was particularly bad and jolted his bad leg. The drive was fairly short – the job had only been a few miles out of town, and had looked to be simple. That was, until they got there and realised they were vastly outnumbered, thanks to Gavin managing to track down the wrong gang altogether, much to Michael’s annoyance. The resulting fight ended badly, with Jeremy’s leg broken in two places (according to Ray, at least) and various minor wounds.   
It didn’t take long to get back to the penthouse. They were greeted by a strange silence, broken by Gavin’s squawks and Michael’s colourful cursing as they carried Jeremy into the living room, dropping him unceremoniously on the couch. “Owww…fuck, you guys, could you be careful? That fucking _hurt_.” Jeremy whined miserably.

“I would, but you’re heavier than I thought, Lil J. I can barely pick up _Gavin_ , and he's a fucking twig.” Ray muttered, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Gayleb’s coming tomorrow. Fuck, why can’t he come now? What the fuck does Geoff pay him to do, fuck Treyco?” 

“Probably. He always seems to be busy, if you ask me.” Gavin mused, perching on the arm of the couch and glancing down at Jeremy. “You poor thing. I…can we help you? I don’t know what you do for people with broken bones.”

“Let them rest? Shut the fuck up so they don’t have to listen to your annoying as fuck voice for five minutes?”

“But Micool…”

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Gavin huffed, flipping Michael off before getting up to kneel beside Jeremy. “I’m sorry, love. I guess you’re stuck with us until Caleb gets here, huh?” He gently brushed Jeremy’s hair out of his eyes, smiling weakly. “I’m sure he’ll be here early tomorrow, and we can try and sort you out as best we can until then.”

“I’ll be fine, guys. You know what I’m like.” Jeremy tried to reassure them, his smile somewhat desperate. 

“Shut up, Jeremy. You’re not okay, and we’re going to look after you. That’s what we’re here for. We might not have a medical degree, but I’m sure we can fix you up temporarily.”

“It’s a broken bone, Gav. There’s not much we _can_ do until Caleb gets a cast on it.” Ray murmured, running a hand along Jeremy’s leg to feel for the break. Jeremy winced as Ray put pressure on the break and hissed in pain, causing Ray to flinch away. “Shit, sorry, man. Didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

“We can clean his other wounds though! It’ll at least save Caleb a job if we do that.” Gavin retorted, frowning slightly and pulling Ray’s away from him. “Ray, you sort his wounds out. You have the steadiest hands anyway. Should we…should we call Geoff and tell him?”

Michael and Ray glanced quickly at each other, exchanging looks. The three gents were out of town on business – something about a rival gang getting too close for Geoff’s comfort. The three had promised to be back as soon as possible, with Ryan reckoning it would take around two weeks or so. Jack had been the least sure about leaving the four lads alone for that long, but Ray had assured them they would be just fine. 

“Nah. If we tell them, you know Jack will freak the fuck out and worry about all of us the whole time they’re gone. They got a job to do – I don’t wanna worry ‘em. They’ll find out when they get back anyway.”

“Yeah, but…they told us not to do anything dumb while they were gone. Something tells me we’re not gonna be left home alone ever again.”

“Who the fuck do you think they are, your parents?” Michael spat, rolling his eyes. “We’re allowed to do whatever the fuck we like, Gav – we’re grown adults, for fuck’s sake!”

“He’s right, Gav. Jack’s just a worrier. I’ll be fine until they get back.” Jeremy chimed in, sitting up slightly. “Besides, if Geoff’s gonna get annoyed, I’d rather he gets annoyed in person than over the phone. I like my hearing.” 

“I don’t think Jack not trusting us to be left alone for more than four hours is the biggest our concerns right now, and Jeremy’s got a point. I’ll sort his injuries out. You two go make tea or some shit. Or fuck in the kitchen, ‘cause I can fucking _feel_ the sexual tension between you two. It’s unbearable.” Ray laughed, earning a glare from Michael and a squawk from Gavin, who flushed bright red before dragging Michael off in the direction of the kitchen. “Fucking losers.” Ray muttered, scrabbling around for the medkit they kept in the coffee table drawers in case of emergency. 

“You’re in a good mood today, huh, Ray?” Jeremy murmured, smiling softly down at his partner. 

“Yeah, whatever. No need to be sarcastic, asshole. Now where the fuck did you get shot? I know you did, so don’t lie to me and give me the “I’m fine” bullshit.” Ray snapped, scowling slightly.  
“Ray, chill out. What’s up? You’re not like this.” Jeremy murmured, grabbing Ray’s chin and tilting his head up to look him in the eyes. The other man looked up at him, worry clouding his eyes slightly.

“I’m just…fuck, Jere, you scared me. When I first saw you, I couldn’t tell if you were fucking breathing or not. I was so scared you died. What am I supposed to do without you, Jeremy?” Ray breathed, biting his lip. “I’m sorry. It just fucked me up, that’s all. I can’t lose you. I don’t know what the fuck I’d do without you.” Jeremy frowned as he took in Ray’s expression, using his other hand to run a hand through his hair. 

“Ray…I’m sorry. I…I shoulda been more careful. I probably coulda prevented that happening in the first place.”

“Don’t apologise, idiot! It’s not your fault. Shit like this happens; it’s part of the fucking job, but that doesn’t mean it scares me any less whenever I see you or any of the others lying motionless on the ground. I’ll always be fucking terrified for all of your safety, but it’s you who I’m always most worried about. Jere, you’re basically indestructible. If there’s one person who never gets hurt, it’s you. And fuck, Jeremy, I love you. I don’t- I can’t even think about what I’d do if one day I have to wake up knowing you’re not here anymore.”

“I…” Jeremy trailed off almost immediately, the pure, unfiltered _fear_ in Ray’s voice leaving him at a loss for words. “I understand. I love you too, Ray, and I can’t bear the thought of losing you either. Please…don’t worry so much. I’ll be okay – it’s just a broken leg. Nobody's dead. It’s over, and we’re safe.” He pulled the man closer, gently kissing the top of his head. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”


	2. Christmas Shenanigans [OT7]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is for my lovely friend lizbeth aka @logicaldork !! i love you and your t-rex dildos so so much you nerd <3333333
> 
> prompt: basically christmas ot7

“Do you think if I hang myself with tinsel it’s more festive?”

“Let’s not try that, yeah?” Ryan smirked, taking the tinsel out of the hands of a disappointed looking Ray. “We’ve already had one attempt at re-enacting the Casualty Christmas special.”

“Fuck you. We could totally get famous off it if we tried.” Ray responded, snatching the rapidly shedding tinsel back from the taller man. “I mean, it’s all okay if you kill the Brit.”

“Oi, is someone making threats on my life?” Gavin yelled, glaring at Ray. 

“Who, me? Nah, that’s Ryan. I’d never threaten anybody in my life.” Ray exclaimed, eyes wide in mock horror. “Ryan’s the one who got voted ‘Most Likely to Kill Someone in Their Sleep’ in high school.”

“I did no-"

“You got voted ‘Most Likely to Kill Someone in Their Sleep’!? Bloody hell, Ryan! You’re more of a creep than I thought!”

“Who’s killing who in what sleep?” came the voice of Geoff, who appeared in the doorway with an ever-present bottle of whiskey in hand.

“Geoff, it’s hardly noon and you’re already drinking?” Ryan asked incredulously, his eyes widening. “At this rate you’re gonna be in hospital before the end of the week.”

“Fuck off, it’s Christmas. Leave me alone.”

“Then it must be fucking Christmas all the time, ‘cause you sure as shit don’t stop drinking when it’s _not_ Christmas.” Ray muttered, shooting a glance in Geoff’s direction. Geoff huffed loudly, rolling his eyes and making a big show of putting the bottle down. The glass clinked loudly on the wooden coffee table, accentuating Geoff's point.

“Happy now, O Holy One?” Geoff sniped, glaring at Ray. The smaller man simply shrugged and turned back to fussing over the Christmas tree he and Ryan had been wrestling with for the past hour. “What the fuck are you two dicks doing?” 

“Well, _somebody_ decided getting a fake tree this year was a great idea, and _somebody_ threw out the instructions before we figured out how to put this dumb thing together.” Ryan muttered, glancing pointedly at Geoff.

“It’s faker than Gavin’s ass.”

“Oi!” 

“So we got a fake tree that’s faker than Gavin’s ass, and between two of you neither of you can figure out how to put it together? Merry fuckin’ Christmas.” Michael yelled, wrapping his arms around Gavin’s waist and receiving a sharp slap to the face. “Hey, asshole. Chill.”

“My ass is not fake!”

“Whatever, loser. Nobody cares.” Ray chimed in, forcing two pieces of metal together. “Fucking hell, Geoff. Why can’t we just go chop down some tree in a forest? Nobody would notice.”

“Because whenever we have a real tree, _I_ have to clean up all the pine needles at the end of the season.” Jack called out, rolling her eyes. “Somebody always runs into it or knocks it over or throws it at Gavin, and I’m sick of cleaning up after you all. At least if it’s fake it won’t drop pine needles all over the place.”

“Whatever, Mom.” 

“I don’t ask people to throw it at me!”

“Real ones smell better.”

“Real ones don’t require a fucking hour’s worth of set up!”

Jack shook her head, sighing at the group of men assembled before her. “Honestly, you act like children. Where’s Jeremy?”

“Uh…no clue.” Ray muttered, shrugging nonchalantly before turning back to the metal pieces he’d been forcing to fit together. Gavin giggled nervously, ducking behind Michael and smiling up at Jack demurely. 

“I haven’t seen him all day, love.”

“Who’s Jeremy?” Michael added, smiling through gritted teeth. 

“What have you assholes done to him?” Geoff frowned, glancing at Jack and Ryan before looking between the three lads.

“Us? Nothing at all!” Gavin smiled cheerily, waving his hand in the air. “We wouldn’t do anything to Lil J-"

Gavin was cut off, however, by a loud screech from upstairs, with a distinctive Jeremy sound to it. The three lads smiled nervously, looking up at Jack with fear clear in their eyes.  
“I can’t believe it! What the fuck have you _done_!?” Jeremy shrieked, running his hands through his hair and yanking on the ends. The six looked over at him with various expressions of shock and confusion before hysterical laughter broke out from the other lads. Jeremy’s hair was a badly dyed mess of slightly off red and green, with an unfortunate shade of brown where the two colours had mixed together. “This is gonna take fucking _forever_ to sort out! What the fuck did you use? _How_!?” Jeremy yelled, shaking his head.

“It looks…nice?” Jack offered, smiling apologetically at Jeremy. “I…I don’t even know. When did you do this?” she frowned, turning to look at the three lads who had formed a small circle. 

“Why do you think we did it? We’re innocent.”

“If you’re fucking innocent I’m the President of the United States!” Jeremy fumed, dragging a hand through his freshly dyed hair again.”

“Fine. We did it last night. It was Gavin’s idea, really.”

“No bloody way! It was Michael's idea!”

“If I recall, it was _yours_ , Ray.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t care who’s idea it was! My hair is the same colour as Kesha’s vomit!”

“Just dye over the top of it. Big deal.”

“You can’t just do that! It doesn’t work!” Jeremy fumed, his voice become higher with each sentence. Gavin giggled nervously again, glancing down at the shorter man.

“I’m sorry, love. You see, Michael thought it was semi-permanent, and when we got halfway through, Ray re-read the packaging and…turns out, it wasn’t semi-permanent.”

“I am going to kill all three of you.” Jeremy muttered through gritted teeth, scowling at the three of them.

“Jeremy, I’m sure there’s a way we can fix this…” Jack responded soothingly, rubbing the shorter man’s back reassuringly. 

“Can’t you get dye stripper or something?” Ryan offered, tilting his head to one side. “I’m pretty sure that’s what Gavin used that time he dyed his hair pink when he was drunk.”

“That was one bloody time!”

Jeremy sighed heavily, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Rye. People say those things fuck up your hair big time, and I love dying mine. I don’t wanna fuck it up so bad I can’t dye it anymore.” Ray bit his lip anxiously, taking a small step towards Jeremy. 

“I’m sorry, Jeremy…I didn’t think you’d be this bothered by it. It was just a dumb joke…” the lad trailed off, fixing his gaze on the floor. The other man let out a small sigh and wrapped his arms around Ray’s shoulder, smiling slightly. 

“It’s not okay, but I still love you. I still love all three of you. Even if I’m super pissed at all of you and if a car crashed into the house right now and killed you, I’d be slightly okay with that.” Jeremy paused, taking in Gavin’s terrified expression and laughing. “I’m kidding. I’d be devastated. I can fix my hair…eventually. But you guys are paying all the fucking bills for me to get this fixed.” He looked up at the three, smiling wickedly. “And hair treatments are not cheap. At all.” 

“Whatever. I’m getting bored of Jeremy’s sob story. And I’m outta alcohol.” Geoff piped up, picking up his bottle and tipping it upside down to demonstrate. Ryan rolled his eyes, taking the bottle from Geoff and tossing it aside. 

“Could you quit it? Our dear lover is having a dilemma here, and all you can think about is your drinking habits.” Ryan murmured, smiling slightly as he wrapped his arms around Geoff’s waist. The heavily inked man huffed loudly in response, despite the small smile that crept onto his face. 

“This is not how I planned to spend my Christmas. Sorting out Jeremy’s fucking hair because Michael can’t read. No wonder American literacy rates have gone down.” Geoff muttered, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, well, I went to public school. Whaddya expect?” Michael retorted, raising an eyebrow at Geoff.

“I went to fuckin’ public school, and I can tell the difference between ‘permanent’ and ‘semi-permanent’, you idiot!”

“Children, children, let’s calm down.” Jack sighed, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, it’s like looking after a group of three-year-olds. Actually, I think three-year-olds would be more mature. And less alcoholic.”

“You love us.”

“That I do.”


	3. Castle of Gold [Freewood]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is for gav/anna aka @vigilpanda!! ily <3
> 
> this one is waaaaaay longer becuase i really enjoyed this prompt? it's based off of throne of glass by sarah j. maas which i 100% recommend you read because it's honestly one of my favourite books
> 
> prompt: something freewood/mayvinwood within the kings!verse except i changed it up a lil

The first thing Gavin noticed was how _cold_ the room was. Compared to everywhere else in the castle, this room was absolutely freezing. Now Gavin was no stranger to the cold – not after the years labouring away in the prison camps. But the temperature change had come as almost a shock to the system after only forty-eight hours of warmth. Suppressing a shiver, he turned to rake his eyes over the others gathered in the small, dimly-lit room. He was quick to notice he was among the small men – skinny and fairly short; no immediate threat. Closest to him on his right side was a boy, shorter than himself, with matted, ginger hair. A constellation of freckles covered his nose and cheekbones, and his expression was one of pure hatred as he glared up at the King. To his left was an even shorter boy, with dark skin and darker eyes. Gavin tried not to let his gaze linger on the two for too long – making this situation any worse was not preferable by any means.

“You know what you must do. Your freedom is on the line here. You are dismissed.” the King’s clear voice cut through the silence, and Gavin’s eyes instinctively shot in that direction. Beside the King stood his son – Prince James Ryan Haywood, heir to the throne, and this tyrannical kingdom. Gavin couldn’t help but find him hopelessly attractive, ever since they had first met. He just hoped the Prince was a better man than his father. He did not have much chance to admire the Prince for long though, as a pair of cold, calloused hands gripped his shoulders and dragged him from the room. He was shoved down the corridor, cursing loudly as he almost stumbled over his own two feet. 

“Christ, could you be a little more bloody careful? You’re going to kill me before anyone else gets the chance at this rate!” the Brit squawked. One of the guards growled in response, shoving him harder still. However, Gavin was somewhat lucky – he did not have to be forced down the long, twisting stone staircases like some of the more unfortunate ‘prisoners’. Instead he was thrown back into the room he had come from originally, and the two iron bolts over the door were thrown back into place. The guards walked away, and then there was silence.

-

A few days passed and little happened. The guards would bring Gavin food and water, and leave again. He spent these days looking for anything he could use – sharp objects that he could create makeshift weapons from, bottles he could break and use the glass from – but to no avail. The servants had not been sloppy when they had cleared out the room; there was nothing that Gavin could use at all.

It was day four that broke the monotonous pattern for Gavin. Once again, footsteps had approached his door, but they had hesitated outside. Usually the guards would enter immediately, with no regard towards the boy’s privacy, and throw the small metallic tray on the floor with a loud clank, before retreated, bolting the door, and walking away. The hesitation made Gavin pause – made him sit up and pay attention to the person who was likely to enter. A few moments ticked by before the first bolt slowly slid out of place. The lad could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Nobody had told him of any visitors. Was the King starting today? No – they hadn’t given any of them sufficient time to recover from the horrors of the prisons and get into better shape. It must be the guards. There was no other explanation-

Gavin was cut off mid-thought when the second bolt was slid back and a figure entered the room. Surprise came from Gavin in waves as he scrambled to his feet – this man had entered with no visible weapons, and he did not even seem afraid of the lad stood in the centre of the room. He looked up, and his eyes met the sky blue of Prince Haywood’s. 

“P-Prince Haywood?” Gavin stammered, stumbling back slightly. “What are you doing here? Why do you have no guards with you?” The Prince did not speak or break his eye contact with Gavin. He stood there silently; waiting, watching. 

“Am I not allowed to roam my castle freely?” was his response, low and calm. Gavin shook his head, regaining his confidence slightly. “I was told to bring word to you, Gavin. As you know…this competition was my father’s idea. He wishes for me to pick out three people I think will win. I know he will not approve of my choice at all…” he hesitates, takes a deep breath, and continues, “But I think you will be worthy. Your reputation is not to be frowned out, that is for sure.”

Gavin smirked, realising that he had nothing to be afraid of here. There was no deep fear within him at the sight of the Prince, not like the fear he felt when he was near the King. “Why me? Wouldn’t you be better off backing one of those men twice the size of me?”

“Physical strength is not everything, and I would have thought you would know that. We didn’t choose just anyone to participate, because let’s face it – anybody can win, and then my father will be stuck with that person.”

“He’d just get rid of them if he didn’t want them.”

“Maybe. Nonetheless, I have faith that _you_ will win this, Gavin. Obviously, there are a few competitors that I honestly have no hope for, and those will likely be left for the lower nobility to argue over. I was given first choice. I already have two others – you are my third, Gavin.”

“And what about your other two? Did you say the same thing to them? That they can win this if they try? It’s not really a very good pep talk if you reuse the exact same one.”

“I didn’t. I know that neither of them will win this, but they have the potential to go far.” the Prince took a step into the room, wary to keep enough distance between him and the young lad. “I’m not asking whether or not you want me to support you. I’m _telling_ you that I will be supporting you.”

“Don’t get to close, _Ryan_. You never know when somebody will turn round with a knife to your throat.” the boy spat, scowling deeply. “I’m not going to be nice with you. Your father is the reason I suffered hell in that fucking prison.” _Your father is the reason Dan is dead_ , he didn’t add. “I don’t want you to try and be nice to me, or support me, or whatever else you want to bloody try, because it’s never going to make me forgive you and your disgusting family. I do not want to be associated with you in any way.” he turned on his heel, a deep scowl marring his somewhat beautiful face. Ryan flinched visibly at the use of his name, taking another hesitant step towards the boy.

“Gavin. It is not an option. Like it or not, you are associated with me now.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ll thank me.”

-

Gavin almost wished for the monotonous days before the Prince had shown up at his room. A few hours later, a guard had been sent, introduced himself as Geoff, locked iron handcuffs around his wrists, and promptly dragged him down to a large, stone hall. Gavin had whined and complained all the way there, struggling against Geoff’s iron grip. The man had simply ignored him, or so he thought, considering he couldn’t move his head to look behind him and see the taller man’s expression of barely-masked frustration. Once he got there, he had been shoved roughly between the two boys from days before – the ginger and the brunet. The ginger just scowled, rolling his eyes and turning away, and the brunet did not even respond to Gavin being shoved into the pair – he simply stepped to the side. 

It took a few minutes for the remaining competitors to filter in before a tall, dark-haired man entered. He didn’t introduce himself – he just raked his eyes over the twelve men stood there. “I don’t care much for introductions, because by the end of this, eleven of you will be dead anyway. You have six weeks to train yourself for this competition. We do not care how you do it, or what you do in this time; you will be left to get on with it. There are some rules. Your assigned guard will watch you, and you will not be allowed to leave this hall. You cannot harm any of the others, including guards.” he paused and gestured to a large metal wall, covered with weapons of all different kinds. “I would have thought it would be obvious, but there is bound to be one who does not understand. You cannot take of these weapons out of here.” he walked over to one side of the line, looking down on the ginger boy. “One last thing. You slip up, we are not afraid to end you. All it will do is make the competition shorter, and that is no problem to us.” the man finished by nodding to the guards, who stamped their spears in assent. “You may begin.”

Gavin went straight towards the wall of weapons, scowling as he felt Geoff pull him back. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” Geoff growled, yanking him back into place between the other two. “You don’t even know these two, yet you’re working for the same sponsor.”

“I don’t recall being told I _was working_ for him.” 

“Maybe working for him isn’t the right word. More like winning this competition to put all the older nobility to shame.” the tall guard ground out. “Don’t be a mistake. Ryan gets enough shit from his father; let’s not make this any worse.”

“Oh, you get to call him by his name, do you?” the ginger piped up, scowling deeply at Geoff. “Guess what? I don’t give a fuck about precious little _Ryan’s_ problems. He’s not the one who’s got to fight for his fuckin’ life, is he?” 

“Shut it, Michael.”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You rich assholes couldn’t give a shit if we live or die. So long as you get your entertainment out of it. That’s all we fuckin’ are to you – entertainment.”

“He’s not wrong.” Gavin mused, looking up at Geoff. He could feel the older man’s slight unease despite his unreadable expression, and Michael was playing with it. Gavin was more than happy to join in.

“How about you two can it and quit wasting time?” he snapped, and they both felt the tension in his voice. He didn’t want to talk about this – but the two lads did.

“How about you quit avoiding it, huh?” Michael snarled, shaking his wrists in the shackles that held them. “How the fuck are we supposed to do anything with this shit on us!?” 

“If you’d shut the fuck up and calm down, I’d take them off.”

Michael fell silent after that, but his scowl didn’t fade. Geoff waited a few moments before moving towards the darker boy and unshackling him, watching him rub his wrists to try and get more blood flowing into them. He came to Gavin next, taking more care in unshackling him. He knew who these boys were – he wasn’t taking any risks. Michael posed the most immediate threat, but if Gavin and Ray were armed, there were equally as deadly. Even though the trio half-starved and worked to death, he was pretty certain they could take him out as a team. And that almost scared him. He moved on, going to unshackle Michael. He refused to let his uncertainty show – he couldn’t let Michael win. He slowly removed the iron shackles and tossed them aside, beside the other two pairs. “So, what would you say your strengths are?” he asked, glancing between the three. Silence. “Really. You’re good at absolutely nothing.”

“You know who we are. You know what we did. Surely you can figure that out.” the smallest boy, Ray, muttered. Gavin turned to face him, an expression of something like shock on his face. He hadn’t expected the darker lad to say anything at all – he seemed far more submissive and willing than Michael or himself. His voice was quiet, which suggested to Gavin he rarely spoke, or it had been a long time since he last did.

“Of course I know who you are. Gavin, you’re an archer. So we’ll test all of your archery skills.” Geoff declared, leading the three boys over towards the wall of weapons.

-

Six weeks came and went. The days blurred into one for Gavin – little happened except relentless training. Despite his attempts to keep a distance from Michael and Ray, he couldn’t stop himself from growing fond of the pair. Michael was fiery and strong – the first time he’d taken Michael on in hand-to-hand, he’d found himself lying on the floor and badly winded within seconds. He couldn’t figure out what the hell Michael had even done to get him in that position. And the other – Ray – was like his complete opposite. If Michael was day, Ray was night. The boy was quiet and smart, whereas Michael was loud and thought with his fists. He liked them both, and the reality that he may be the one to end their lives was not a pleasant one.

He even found himself coming to like Geoff. The man was not as horrible as he tried to be, and Gavin soon found himself able to coax the man into staying and talking to him after they were returned to their rooms. Geoff was not dumb, but Gavin realised the older man put too much trust in him. He told Gavin things he likely should not – court affairs and gossip, problems and arguments between the nobility. He had no use for this information, but that didn’t stop him from being interested – he wanted to know everything about how the castle ran. Gavin was intrigued, to say the least, even though he would never experience any of these things first hand.

And then there was Ryan, the Crown Prince. Although he didn’t want to admit it, he _adored_ Ryan. He found the younger man was nothing like his father, even though something deep inside of Gavin told him to _run run run run and never look back_. The Prince visited regularly, and often stayed for hours. They both knew Geoff was aware, and he wasn’t best pleased about him constantly visiting, but there was nothing he could do. Geoff and Ryan had been best friends since childhood, Gavin discovered. Geoff would not tell Ryan’s father of the visits – he couldn’t stand the way the King treated his son as it was. They would talk about everything and anything, and these visits were what Gavin enjoyed the most. He loved Michael and Ray, and Geoff was never bad company, but none of them could compare to Ryan. 

It was late – Gavin knew this because it was dark outside – and the castle had fallen into the quiet lull that signals most of its’ residents are going to bed. The next day marked the First Challenge – and the first death, Gavin thought. He didn’t want to go into it, knowing he could lose Michael or Ray…or himself. He looked out over the meticulously kept gardens, a small sigh escaping from his mouth. He didn’t even noticed Ryan entering until he was stood right behind him. Gavin sensed the person behind him and whipped around, his eyes wide when he saw Ryan.

“Ryan! Bloody hell! No need to give me a heart attack before this goddamn competition!” the blond squawked, earning a laugh from the Prince. 

“I apologise, Gavin. I came to wish you luck. I don’t plan to stay for long – you need to rest.” Ryan murmured, running his hand through Gavin’s hair reassuringly. “I know you can do this. Don’t give up just yet. I know you’re more than capable of beating everyone in this castle, let alone those competitors.”

“I hope so. I want my freedom more than anything. But I suppose death is freedom, in its own way.”

“How do you mean?”

“I won’t have to suffer. Because at the end of the day, even if I win, I’m still not free. I’ll have to stay here even longer, and work for _him_.” 

Ryan didn’t need to ask who Gavin was talking about. He knew, and understood, Gavin’s hatred of his father. Ryan himself hated his father. The way he ruled was cruel and unfair, and he knew many people disapproved of his ruthless ways. People had great hopes for Ryan when he would rise to take the throne, and the young man didn’t know how he felt about that. But his father was a strong man – his death was not going to be for many years. “I’m sorry, Gavin. You know I’d change this if I could.” he murmured, pulling the blond lad into his arms. “I hate it. I didn’t want this, you know. I tried to tell him we have plenty of perfectly good soldiers, just pick one of them dammit, don’t make people go through this. But he never listens.” 

Gavin just listened, leaning against Ryan’s muscled chest. Listened to his words, his heartbeat, everything. Because this could be the last time he gets to see Ryan properly, and he needs it. Tomorrow could be his last day. And nothing could ever prepare him for that reality. So he’ll take what Ryan gives him, these few brief moments, and he’ll see what happens tomorrow. Because now he’s not just doing it to avenge Dan anymore.

He’s doing it to make Ryan proud.


End file.
